Love in the Dark (LarssonSiblingsSeries#1)

CHAPTER SEVEN - DELILAH

DELILAH

We've only been in this nightclub an hour, and my heels are already burning so bad. The shoes aren't even mine and a size too small, which will explain the ache—a one-night donation from Poppy as she says that they make my legs go on for miles. I don't care if they look good. The heel is five inches of hell.

"This night just got a hell of a lot more interesting," Poppy says, dancing next to me as the beat pulses through the air. "There's a crowd of blonde men walking through the door. And, I think they're brothers."

I move my body to the heavy beat of the music as my muscles ease up with the movement. "Cool."

"There's a girl with them, but she looks like a right moody cow." Poppy carries on the conversation and then slaps my arms twice. "Ooh! The older looking one is eyeing you up. God, DeDe, he can't take his eyes off you."

I feel the weight of his gaze. It burns a hole through my head as my eyes float across the club. "You've got to be kidding me."

Edward Larsson.

Poppy gets closer to me. "Wait, you know him?"

"Yes." I spin around, so my back is facing him and instantly want to go home. "I know the arsehole. It's Edward Larsson."

Poppy's face turns sour. "Edward pigface Larsson. Who is also scorching hot and walking towards us."

I glance over in a panic to see him pushing his way through the crowds of people. "And my night is ruined."

"Delilah. I didn't expect to see you here tonight," he says zoning in on me as I make my frame smaller. I hate how his presence does something to me.

I cross my arms over my stomach and stare up at him. "The feeling is very mutual. I wouldn't think Bar Babylon is your scene. You seem more of a country club type to me."

Edward's eyes skim down the length of my body with an expression I don't quite understand. "I'm here with my brothers. It isn't by choice, either."

Poppy cuts in. "Who's the girl with you?"

Edward turns to view them all as they take up the free booth near the door. "That's Clara. She's Noah's girlfriend."

"Is there any reason her face looks like a slapped arse?"

"Poppy," I hiss.

Edward finds it hilarious and holds his hand up in the air for her to tap. "That would be because we've dragged her here without her girlfriends."

Poppy glances over to his brothers again. "Which one's Noah?"

Edward points towards the bar. "The guy with the clipped head buying the drinks."

"Hot," she purrs, and I roll my eyes. Here we go.

Edward raises his eyebrows at her before flashing me a smile. "You think so?"

Poppy practically licks her lips. "Oh, yes. I like his tattoo's."

I butt in and take hold of her arm to pull her to face me. "Poppy, he has a girlfriend. Stop it."

Edward nearly pushes me out of the way and takes hold of Poppy's hand to lead her over to their table, leaving me like a lemon in the middle of many gyrating bodies. Poppy reaches her arm out in my direction, but Edward is too quick to get her away for me to hold on to her hand.

Well, isn't this just brilliant.

I see Poppy giggling at something Edward says and decide it's time for me to leave. I'm not a part of their circle. I never will be, and as I stand here watching them invite my friend in, it hurts more than I'm willing to admit. The journey in the taxi is going to be a fair way from here, and I know I'll be busting for a pee when I get halfway home. The toilets are next to the exit, which is convenient as I make my way out.

I try to squeeze my way through a bunch of giggling girls to grab the last of the free stalls, and just as I get sat on the toilet, I hear Poppy shouting my name. "I'm in here!"

"Oh, good. I worried you went home," she shouts with her feet appearing underneath the stall door.

I head for the sink full of macerated tissue paper when I finish peeing. "I am going home."

She stands over me to catch my eye in the mirror. "Please come and sit with us. Edward's not as bad as you think once you get speaking to him. The other lads are a laugh too."

A fire burns through my chest at her words. Edward's not as bad as you think once you get speaking to him. No. Edward seems to be nice to everyone but me. "I said that I'm going home."

Poppy keeps her eyes on mine. "Okay, babe. I won't force you."

I put my hands underneath the automatic dryer, watching the water evaporate in no time. I shout. "Everything Edward does is calculated, Pops. There is always a motive. I don't trust him."

Poppy moves out the way of a few drunk girls who're trying to get out of the door. "I think he likes you."

I spin around. "Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. I saw the way he looked at you. Ever heard of the boy who picks on the girl he likes theory?" she replies.

I shake my head. "Edward doesn't like me. I have a deal he wants, and it's driving him insane. Trust me on this, okay? He's nothing but a bully."

Poppy opens the bathroom door and leads the way out towards the exit door where I want to make a quick exit. "I'm kind of over staying out too. I'll head home with you."

I frown, but she's already linking her arm through mine. "Don't let me ruin your night."

She leads us towards the exit. "I wouldn't look now, but Edward is checking you out."

It's hard to keep my gaze from the other side of the room, but I fight it. "Is he?"

Poppy stares hard. "Oh, yes, my girl. And he totally just freaked out when I caught him looking at you."

I'm not discreet when I look over there. It's true. Those steely eyes of his are definitely on me. We gawk pretty hard at one another until Dexter dives on him which cuts the building tension. Edward blocks Dexter's hands when they try to touch his face, and I curl my hands into fists when Dexter then sits back to wave us over there.

"Come have a drink with us," yells the youngest male of the Larsson clan.

Poppy tilts her head like she's thinking about it. "I told you they were friendly."

The Bacardi and Diet Coke I previously drank is sloshing around uneasily in my stomach.

I push her towards them. "Go, have your fun. Please."

"Are you sure?" She's slowly walking towards them with her eye still on me.

I laugh at how she's failing at acting subtle. "I'm sure. It's Friday night. Be wild."

The loud booming track of a song she loves surrounds us, and she's suddenly throwing her body about the place again. "Love you, Delilah."

My fingers manage to catch her wrist before she scurries off. "Be safe." It's an order.

"Always," she pats her handbag, misjudging my warning.

I move in when the music seems to get louder. "Please don't go home with any strangers tonight."

She winks. "I'll come home alone. Promise you."

That makes me feel better about leaving her with a bunch of strangers. At twenty-five years old she's a grown-up, I know this, but her wild ways have landed her in trouble more than once.

My attention drifts over to the guy who's been messing with my stress levels just lately to find him laughing about something with his lookalike brothers. I use that as my excuse to leave the club as I bypass the taxi rank, to take off these awful heels and walk the way to Dad's shop.

...

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